In the vast universe, the birth and death of a galaxy is nothing more than a fleeting moment. Looking up at the starry sky, there's always a sense of sadness that the ending is predetermined. Where will you and I be in a thousand years? Home country, the light of civilization, Earth, are all just specks of dust in the deep space. A moment in the starry sky, a thousand years in the human world. The chirping of insects lasts only an autumn, and we are all striving to cross. What is at the end of deep space?